


The Incident at Mareth Forest Outpost

by Square Pudding (mistaken)



Series: SASO 2016 Fills [1]
Category: Corruption of Champions, Haikyuu!!, ダイヤのA | Daiya no A | Ace of Diamond
Genre: Animal Traits, Body Horror, Improbable anatomy, It's CoC AU, M/M, Missing/changed body parts, Miyuki is aro as fuck, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Please please keep that in mind, Sexual Frustration, Transformation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-06
Updated: 2016-07-06
Packaged: 2018-07-21 22:06:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7406905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mistaken/pseuds/Square%20Pudding
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For SASO 2016 and Icie, who requested:</p><p>Package: A pink and purple egg<br/>To: Miyucchi<br/>From: Oikawa<br/>Note: In case Miyucchi's life has been boring lately~</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Incident at Mareth Forest Outpost

In all, the research expedition to Mareth was going quite well. However, whoever coined the advisory to never accept gifts from strangers clearly had never been friends with one Oikawa Tohru.

The egg had come as part of a regular shipment from Oikawa's desert outpost. Sterilized before transit, obviously, but with enough of a lingering scent to its mottled pink and purple shell for Miyuki to guess the egg had come from Oikawa _directly_ , with all that implied. Oikawa did seem to be enjoying his desert assignment a lot more since gaining a pussy.

Miyuki set the egg to one side of his cramped field desk and took a look at Oikawa's message again. The note, in addition to suggesting the egg would be good for alleviating boredom -- three months ago Miyuki would have laughed at the idea of a Mareth expedition being _boring_ , but you could only fend off the same horny imps and goblins every day for so long before it became routine -- said it ought to be eaten raw, preferably at camp where the junior researchers would be around to 'assist.' The implication made Miyuki's nose scrunch up: where possible, he kept fraternizing with the research team to a minimum, preferring to offset Mareth's environmental effects with help from the local fauna instead. It was part of why he'd volunteered for a transfer to the forest station to begin with, not despite but _because of_ the high density of roving sapient vines and giant bee women in the area.

(The other part was that the bee women's honey sold for a killing at Tel'Adre.)

Miyuki thanked the junior researcher for the delivery and sent them on their way before the grad's parasitic tail -- what most of the team back at base called a 'cuntsnake,' regardless of its official classification -- got a bit too friendly with his groin. Then he turned his attention to the egg again. He _was_ overdue for lunch, it was true, and Oikawa wouldn't have sent him something that was actually dangerous. Probably. Certainly not after the prank he'd pulled on Mei last month...

Shrugging, Miyuki tapped the egg against the edge of his desk to start cracking open its shell and settled in for his lunch break.

* * *

"Tohru, what were you _thinking?_ " Miyuki exclaimed into the radio handset, several hours later.

"Oh, your voice didn't change as much," Oikawa's crackled on the other end, with a hint of disappointment. Miyuki wished there was a way to shoot glaring looks over this thing. "How's walking, by the way?"

 _"Harder,"_ Miyuki ground out. He had been pacing back and forth since arriving at the comms center, but it felt a bit more like staggering drunkenly, without the fun parts. The egg, in addition to the _really unacceptable thing_ , had adjusted the width of his pelvis by a good two, three inches. Meaning nothing he owned fit below the waist now, on top of giving him a thigh gap big enough to fit a volleyball.

Oikawa snickered. Whether at Miyuki's distress or just the fact he said _"hard,"_ that was anybody's guess.

"This _is_ why a lot of us have opted for skirts lately, you know~" Oikawa informed him merrily. And that was true, most of the researchers _had_ switched to 'easy access' clothing since arriving in Mareth, and Miyuki couldn't say he blamed them -- it was hot and humid in Marae's realm, quite apart from the fact most things here wanted to fuck you.

 _Most_ things.

"Relax, Miyucchi!" Oikawa continued, failing to detect his colleague's withering gaze over the line again. "You've seen what other foods do in this place; you should be glad the effect was so small~ Besides, it cured your boredom, didn't it?"

 _"'Cured'?"_ Miyuki repeated, really wishing the outrage and frustration weren't cracking up his voice like this. "Tohru, most of the natives here won't even touch you if you don't have at least _one_ set of genitals."

"So just use your-- oh." Oikawa's tone changed immediately, as realization caught on. "You mean it doesn't give you a--?"

"No."

"It just takes away your--?"

_"Yes."_

An awkward silence fell in. Miyuki was just settling into it, relishing the slow dawn of understanding as Oikawa accepted he had _gone too far_ , when the other researcher spoke up, again.

"Well, you always went on about how you love being on the receiving end, so I don't see what the problem is, really," he declared, simply.

"Tohru!" Miyuki shouted into the radio, his voice carrying well beyond the thrown-together shack walls of the comms center, reaching the ears of virtually anyone unlucky enough to be in the outpost at the moment. "I can't _come like this!_ "

"Turnabout's fair play, isn't it?" Oikawa shot back, a little testily. "The last time we were stationed together, you--"

"That doesn't count!" If only because he _had_ let Oikawa come that time. Eventually.

"Anyway, the others are all saying it's unfair how you've got next to no modifications despite being here longer than any of us." And that was also true, Miyuki had seen the ease with which this realm changed people as a challenge to stay as unmarked as possible -- though he had accepted a few piercings, and there'd been that unfortunate run-in with a nipple-obsessed incubus and a crate of Gro+. " _We've_ all had to adjust to the corrosion field with different parts than what we're used to; it's about time you had to deal with that too."

"Then it was punishment?" Miyuki demanded, heat rising to his cheeks despite himself.

"Miyucchi," said Oikawa, sounding almost pitying. "Don't you think you're taking the loss of your dick a little seriously here?"

* * *

For the first few nights, Miyuki was able to get by relatively unencumbered. Owing to a built-up resistance to Mareth's ambient corrosion effect, his sexual urges were slower to rise than some of the other researchers', something that's allowed him to focus on field work much longer than his colleagues -- while still being able to enjoy sex with the locals when he felt like it, with no loss to his cognitive faculties. It was funny, given his reputation back at home, but here in the corrupted realm he was actually having _less_ sex than the average person.

Granted, "less" didn't account for much when even a low libido here meant sex every one or two days. But Miyuki also annoyed his colleagues with his whole 'don't shit where you eat' policy, preferring the company of non-sapients -- or his own hand -- rather than that of his fellow humans. There were exceptions, obviously, mainly Oikawa... but the net result was that, by Mareth standards, Miyuki was practically frigid.

By the fourth night, however, even he was at his limit. He twisted restlessly in his narrow cot, hands slipping between his thighs to rub and squeeze at something, _anything_ \-- but there was nothing there. Just smooth, bare skin, not even a dusting of pubic hair to indicate where a set of genitals _would_ be, under other circumstances. In frustration he stroked there anyway, trying to elicit at least a feeling of friction he could use to propel his imagination a little further, but nothing. After hours without progress, Miyuki fell asleep from exhaustion and resignation, to the most troubled dreams he'd had since coming to this place.

"I can give you some Numb Rocks, of course," said Chris a few days later, when Miyuki went to see him at the outpost medical tent. "They're taken orally; most patients say they taste like candy. But the side effects include an immediate drop in mental processing. Even one dose will likely affect your work."

"Lack of sleep is affecting my work," Miyuki sighed. "Just write me the scrip. I'll find a way of dealing with the rest of it."

Chris regarded him with amiable concern. Unlike most of the researchers assigned to Mareth, Chris didn't have a libido for the corrosion field effect to distort: he simply was who he had always been. Though he certainly wore more cargo shorts and unbuttoned polo shirts these days than when Miyuki had met him in graduate school. Just allowing his gaze to linger on an exposed thigh for a second too long was making Miyuki's mouth go a bit dry.

"I think we're being hasty," Chris told him, jotting something on his notepad. "Have you explored all your options? Penetration?"

Miyuki cringed, fending off the mental images that word brought up. He clenched his thighs together a little tighter, seated on his stool.

"Solo doesn't seem to work for me now," he admitted, reluctantly. He supposed the egg had taken his prostate as well as his genitals, not that he wanted to _say_ that in front of Chris.

"Not even with your chest?"

Miyuki flushed. Of course, there wasn't really much point in being shy around Chris, was there? He had a complete medical profile on everyone in this outpost; possibly everyone attached to the entire expedition. Of course he'd know about the nipple thing.

"...They're not sensitive enough," Miyuki ground out eventually. Actually, fingering them usually just resulted in a stained shirt and a lot of embarrassment.

"Partners?"

"The tentacle creatures around here are pickier than you might think."

"Have you tried anything more -- bipedal?"

"They're not my preference."

"I think we're beyond 'preference,' if you're already considering relieving symptoms with local medicinals," Chris reminded. He had ceased his regular notes and brought out his prescription pad instead, scribbling something Miyuki couldn't make out from this angle. "Until we receive our next shipment of purified Incubi Draft from the lake outpost, the simplest solution is to elevate your sensitivity and find a partner willing to work with what you have."

He tore off the prescription slip, the sound acting as punctuation as he presented it to Miyuki.

"'Ringtail figs'?" Miyuki read aloud, taking the paper.

"They'll boost your reflexes," said Chris, tapping his temple with the side of his pen. "And I think you'll find the transformation effects to your liking, on top of the added sensitivity. Let me know if you run into any problems."

Miyuki suppressed a small groan. "Chris-senpai..."

"No one in this place is going to think less of you for having a tail, Miyuki. Trust me."

* * *

It'd be helpful if the added sensitivity were the _first_ effect of the figs, and not the third. By then, Miyuki was on his 10th day sans genitals and the raccoon tail was constantly interfering with sitting. Not to mention, the new permanent 'mask' around his eyes looked like he'd gone overboard with eyeblack and made Kuramochi start laughing incessantly every time he saw it.

(Oikawa had been, as ever, unrepentant. "I think it's cute you're now officially a tanuki!" he had declared over the radio, in a sing-song voice. "I bet it really helps with balance, too.")

Miyuki grumbled to himself and continued hiking up the hill.

The worst was that Oikawa was _right_ , the tail did help with his balance, especially what with his new waist-to-hip ratio. It just also made his new trousers -- purchased only the other day from a vendor in Tel'Adre to deal with the aforesaid hip issue -- completely unwearable. So he was reduced to wearing skirts in the end after all. It wasn't that he had an actual problem with them, he just hated deliberately differentiating himself only to get brought back into the fold again without his consent.

Anyway, the tail kept wanting to stand up and expose his bare ass to the entire forest. And while that was technically what he was here to do anyway, it was a matter of timing.

"Hey lady!" a small imp bellowed from the underbrush, about a quarter mile downhill. "I can see everythin' you got!"

"Then you'd know it isn't much," Miyuki muttered under his breath, and kept climbing.

What he was looking for in this corner of the woods was a reported bipedal panther, who, it was said, had a strong preference for dominating wayward travelers from behind. That was how things in Mareth tended to work, once you stepped outside of the settlements: sapient lifeforms trying to rape you constantly. You could surrender and let them have their way with you, and most times that was enough to alleviate the symptoms of the corrosion field for a short time, but Miyuki preferred _not_ to give up that level of control to a hostile native lifeform which had just spent the better part of an hour trying to disembowel him. That was why he enjoyed the tentacle beasts: they weren't humanoid, they were just following their natural instincts (which, for whatever reason, meant sticking their vines into a human's every orifice), and none of them wanted a relationship afterwards. It was the ideal partnership, as far as Miyuki was concerned.

Except _for some reason_ that had changed once Miyuki lost his cock. The tentacle beasts had even shouted at him for it. He hadn't even known they could talk. No one had! It was a huge discovery for the scientific community and would require decades of intensified research, but Miyuki couldn't even focus on filing more than a preliminary report on it because _that had been his one way of getting off_.

So yes: the panther god, Akbal. According to documentation, his saliva had warming properties and his penis barbs vibrated, because why wouldn't they. More importantly, he was indiscriminate, so long as you had the one hole he was interested in. Miyuki was sure he could get in, off, and out of there in the space of an afternoon, provided he could just _find_ the overgrown feline.

"Excuse me! God of the Terrestrial Fire!" Miyuki shouted into the dense woods. "My ass seems to be invading your territory, if that's a thing you're concerned about!"

"What are you _doing?_ " squeaked a terrified fairy, hiding in the hollow of a nearby tree.

 _Surrendering the last of my dignity,_ Miyuki thought grimly, hitching up his skirt. A slight breeze picked up and brushed across his exposed thighs, making his knees lock for a moment -- if he came from a stiff wind before that panther even showed up, so help him...

Miyuki huffed and dropped to his knees, hefting his backpack into the grass nearby so he would be unencumbered. He folded his arms and rested his weight on them, bare ass sticking up in the air with his raccoon tail curved back against his spine. At a glance, he looked exactly the part of some four-legged animal in heat, save the put-upon grimace and half-hearted way he wiggled his hips.

"Hello! Panther god! Someone out here you need to teach to 'submit' already! Where are you, you stupid anal-obsessed old man..."

**_"WHO DARES DISTURB MY SACRED WOOD--"_ **

Oh well _finally_. Despite himself, Miyuki felt a little rush of excitement at the roaring voice, his back arching instinctively to better thrust his naked ass into the air.

"Yep, that's me," Miyuki spoke up. "Better come punish this, you never know how much encroaching I'm gonna do otherwise."

**_"BEGONE WITH YOU, OR I WILL MAKE YOU FATHER TO MY CHILDREN."_ **

"Yeah, wouldn't want tha-- what."

* * *

"A _bee matriarch!_ " he shouted into the comm center radio, hours later, after he'd managed to wash the rest of the pollen off. "They're not even in _season!_ And of course she _only_ wanted something that could penetrate her. Once she found out I had nothing she turned me out so fast I couldn't even ask if she had an ovipositor or something!"

He heard a soft snicker on the other end of the line. "Poor Miyucchi," Oikawa said sweetly. "Who'd have thought your life would become so interesting thanks to one little gift from me~?"

" _Enough_ , Tohru. What's the antidote?"

The laughter on the other end suddenly died off. "You're really at your limit with this, aren't you?" Oikawa asked. "I guess I can tell you, but in exchange..."

"What is it," Miyuki prompted, at the end of his patience.

"Next time we meet, you have to give me a kiss~"

Miyuki pulled into a grimace so severe, a junior researcher coming down an adjacent hallway backed up and sprinted away in the other direction. But really, it lasted only a moment, after which he dragged his fingers over his face.

He'd just washed, but his skin already felt oily again; alien. This had been going on too long -- he'd let Oikawa set him off his game for an unacceptable length of time. He'd let his mask slip. Around most people, that would be horrible enough, but around a peer, who was acquainted with wearing masks himself, it felt far worse. In situations like these, the only thing to do was give it a clean break.

The muscles in Miyuki's face twitched and spasmed as he forcibly reset his expression.

"Oh, is that all?" he replied, returning Oikawa's playful sing-song note for note. "I think we can arrange that~"

"That's good, because there's no antidote, you know."

Miyuki's smile remained frozen.

"Is that so!" he said, so forcefully cheerful it was a wonder the radio channel didn't shriek with feedback. "So I guess I'll just wait until the next shipment of Incubi Draft comes in."

"Oh, didn't you hear? There's been a delay in out-processing from the lake outpost too." Oikawa paused, apparently waiting to hear the tinkling noise of glass starting to fracture. When nothing gave, he continued, "Really, Miyucchi, you can stop pretending. Just go ask that handsome doctor friend of yours to give you a nice thorough medical exam~ I'm sure he takes care of people at the base all the time."

 _That_ made something crack inside him. Miyuki half suspected it was a molar. "Don't," he advised, without a trace of his carefully assembled levity.

Oikawa, for his part, seemed to detect he'd stepped over a line somewhere -- but unfortunately, he decided to keep walking.

"That's not offensive!" he protested. "I know some asexuals who have sex. You shouldn't just assume! How do you know what he's into unless you've asked him? Besides, don't you think it'd be weirder to send someone completely unwilling to have sex on a mission to the Fuck Dimension?"

"I'm signing off, Tohru," Miyuki informed him coldly, and severed the connection before Oikawa could get another word in.

* * *

"Y'know, _I_ could fuck you," Kuramochi suggested, a couple nights later, passing Miyuki an almost-cold, mostly-untainted beer which was the closest anything came to a real beverage around here. "Of course, you'd need to let me call you 'Bandit' the whole time. Hyahaha!"

"No thanks," Miyuki deadpanned, accepting the drink without so much as a glance upwards. He took a shallow sip and grimaced: Chris's treatment had made even his tongue more sensitive.

"It's funny," Kuramochi continued, ignoring or -- what was more likely -- trying to _override_ Miyuki's mood in favor of his own. "Back at uni you were getting more action than any of us. You even banged a professor!"

Miyuki's eyebrows lifted. "I can neither--"

"--'confirm nor deny that,' yeah yeah." Kuramochi waved a hand, knocking back a good quarter of his own beer in one go. The less to have to taste, apparently. "Seeing you all pent up, though, it's kinda _wrong_. Like, cosmic unwinding-of-the-natural-universe kinda wrong."

"Gee, thanks."

"So like, nothing works? Not even...?" He made a gesture that would, in any locale but Mareth, be deemed obscene.

Miyuki managed a small laugh. "I guess I just do better when someone else is already on base."

"What's that? A cricket joke?"

"Pff. Shut up."

"Y'know, this might not even apply to you, but I know this guy," Kuramochi said, straightening up in his chair, only to lean over closer to his colleague. "He's a native. You find him out in the wastes sometimes, hauling a cart around. He sells..." Another rude gesture.

"I already own a vibrator, Kuramochi." It was recommended all the researchers bring one, actually. A _minimum_ of one.

"That's the thing, it's not just that, it's like -- alive?" Kuramochi scratched the back of his head. It was notably hairier these days, and spotted, the same color as the fur covering his tail. Miyuki has a flash of Regret thinking back to his panther search. "Not _aware_ or anything, it's not like those tentacles you like so much, but I dunno, it sounds like it might do the trick? The guy usually only sells it to intersex people but I bet you could convince him. I mean, that's what you _do_ , convincing people."

"...Hm." Miyuki took a long swig of his not-especially-good beer and gave it some thought.

* * *

In the end, he _did_ allow Kuramochi to feel him up a bit, after a few more beers and a lot of needling. It almost felt good, but then Kuramochi started playing with one of his nipples, and got so weirded out by the feeling of a small sucking mouth grasping and clinging to his finger that he announced he had to be elsewhere right away.

The next morning, Miyuki headed out to the wastes.

"'Retired'?" he repeated back to the young vendor, hours later when he had managed to catch up with a small caravan matching Kuramochi's description. "This is his cart, isn't it?"

"Yes," said the dust-covered boy, who for all his height was probably not a day over 20. He looked sheepish, somehow, sand-matted dark hair falling into his eyes. "But he's gone."

"And you, what was your name? Furuya? You're not local, are you? Are you part of the expedition?"

"No..."

"But you're human?"

"Mm."

"What are you _doing_ here?"

The kid, still staring at the battered sword in his hands like he didn't know how it got there, managed a shrug. "Tribute?" he hazarded.

"They still send those?!"

Furuya shrugged again. "Can I sell you something?"

"Forget that -- I'm taking you back to the outpost." Strictly speaking, the listener station at Tel'Adre was closer, but if this kid looked so dazed and out of place standing in the middle of nowhere, Miyuki didn't want to imagine the culture shock that'd accompany his first visit to Mareth's biggest native settlement. Also, Miyuki didn't want to walk those streets wearing a skirt. "Can't guarantee our portal will spit you out close to home, but someone at the institute'll get you on a plane or... something."

"Okay, but..."

"'But'?"

Furuya's makeshift armor scraped as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "The sun might go down first..."

* * *

The sun did end up going down before they reached the forest. Miyuki had the gear to keep going, but Furuya, unused to the terrain, requested they stop for the night -- albeit not in so many words. Rather, he just parked his feet and refused to walk any further, until Miyuki relented and brought out the small tent from his backpack.

There was a bit of negotiation over who would fit where, and taking their boots off, and Miyuki finally had to assert himself and say no to the cludged-together armor Furuya was wearing, they would already be so short on space. Furuya conceded that one with surprisingly little protest, unlatching his breastplate and shoulder pieces, then peeling off the dust-caked compression shirt beneath them.

Furuya was cleaner under his clothes, and more finely built than Miyuki had expected. He was also, it turned out, surprisingly strong.

(He didn't last long, but frankly, neither did Miyuki.)

* * *

"You're glowing," Oikawa accused. "I can hear it over the radio."

"No you can't," Miyuki countered, playing with a few strands of hair around his finger.

"It's in your voice," Oikawa maintained. "So, what did the trick? Incubi Draft? Succubi Milk?" He stage-gasped, dropping into a scandalized whisper. _"Minotaur semen?"_

"No," was the extent of Miyuki's reply, as his mind drifted back fondly to what _had_ worked last night. You could argue he'd been desperate, and practically trembling at the slightest touch, and those were both factors, sure -- but it had been just as nice again the next morning. And the ensuing three _more_ times, in the interval before he and Furuya had finally wandered into the forest outpost, bedraggled and stinking so richly of sex that Miyuki's colleagues thought they'd dragged a horde of demons in with them.

"At any rate, I'm glad," said Oikawa, decisively. "Whatever did it, you're back to your old self, finally."

"You mean, before you sent me an egg that took away my cock?"

" _Well_ before that. Admit it. This place was turning you into a prude."

"I'd say I'm pretty normal," Miyuki said thoughtfully. "Everyone else just comes in here with too many hang-ups and then overcompensates."

"Semantics. What matters is you're back to being a slut. My slut."

" _Your_ slut?"

"Slut buddies!"

"I'm hanging up."


End file.
